


Everybody Here Wants You, My Love

by nouseforaname



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nouseforaname/pseuds/nouseforaname
Summary: “I figured it was about time I lay claim on the things that were supposed to be mine from the very beginning.”“So are you saying that-”“You’re mine, Betty Cooper. You always were.”





	Everybody Here Wants You, My Love

A stranger in a black hooded cloak and expensive-looking heels struts into Pop’s one hazy summer evening and suddenly everyone forgets what they’re doing so they can turn and stare. When a pair of delicate, manicured hands reach up to brush the hood back over an unfamiliar face, Betty swears she can hear the entire diner suck in a collective breath.

The entire building is already wrapped around this girl’s little finger and all it took was for her to simply exist. The quirk of her bold eyebrow and the knowing smirk on her painted red lips suggest that this isn’t the first time she’s gotten this sort of attention before - and it also implies that she _enjoys_ it. All of the gawking and gaping is feeding and strengthening the iron-clad hold this new girl already has on Riverdale.

Archie doesn’t even know her name yet and he’s already under her spell; there’s a warmth in his eyes that Betty’s never seen before, and the sting of jealousy begins to prick at her insides. The dark-haired siren makes a Capote reference and it’s painfully obvious Archie doesn’t have a clue who she’s talking about, and when he forces a laugh in a feeble attempt to look like he understands it only makes the anger in Betty burn brighter. She childishly pouts in her seat as Archie continues to be enchanted by this witch and her stupid poncho-looking thing, refusing to meet eyes with her. It’s ridiculous, but a part of her thinks that if she stares for too long she’ll get hoodwinked too.

But then Archie finally gets around to exchanging names - _Veronica Lodge? Are you kidding me?_ \- and when she hears _This is Betty Cooper_ escape his lips she inwardly curses him before forcing herself to turn her head and finally see what all the fuss is about.

Oh.

The sizzling red of the neon lights zigzags across black hair and flickers against even blacker eyes. Dark red lips are stretched back in a wicked smile, revealing stark white teeth.

Veronica’s eyes find Betty’s and lock on immediately. A tingly weightlessness begins to swell in the blonde’s abdomen and _holy shit what is happening what is going on what is she doing to me how is she doing this what what what-_

“Wait,” The words gracefully slip from those full red lips and into Betty’s ears. Veronica’s tone is dulcet, velvety smooth; it’s a song Betty suddenly finds herself wanting to listen to forever. “Are you…?”

The string of pearls curved around Veronica’s collarbone glints deviously under the diner lights. They look like they’re grinning, teasing, almost laughing.

 _Sucker,_ They seem to say, _Fool. I’ve got you now. You can’t escape._

“Supposed to give you your tour tomorrow? Yes.” Betty regains composure at the last minute; she’s supposed to hate this girl, remember? “I’m your peer mentor.” She finally breaks eye contact and everything comes back into focus. She breathes in and her lungs seem to sigh with relief; she realizes that she had been holding her breath.

When Veronica finally has to leave the diner pauses again. There is no murmur of conversation, no tinkling of cutlery against dinner plates, no sizzling of food in a fryer in the back kitchen - only Veronica’s heels against the linoleum and the swishing of her cloak around her legs.

“What were you saying?” Archie’s the first one to wake up, surprisingly. She can’t help but feel a little ashamed of that.

Betty’s mind is lost in a fog. She tries to remember what they were talking about, what she felt before Veronica Lodge came into her life, but all she can think about is the way her eyes looked, the way those depthless black holes almost sucked her in completely.

“Nothing.”

 

* * *

 

Betty notices this when she shows Veronica around the school on her first day.

She steps into Riverdale High and the entire school bends to her will. She struts down the main hallway, heels clicking and designer bag swinging from the crook of her arm, and every set of eyes is drawn to her. Veronica Lodge takes command of every room she enters without uttering a single word.

But even though the entire town has their sights set on her, the feeling isn’t mutual. Unlike Cheryl Blossom, who gobbles up attention like her life depends on it, Veronica simply brushes past it and moves on with her life. She knows she’s the centre of Riverdale’s attention, but Riverdale isn’t the centre of hers. She teases them with slight glances and sly smirks; she is a masterpiece in a museum and you can look but can’t touch.

Betty can feel their eyes pushing holes into her as she, Kevin, and Veronica eat lunch together. She’s treading water in a sea of circling sharks; they’re watching, waiting, wondering how she managed to get this girl’s attention for more than five minutes. Out of all the people she could have chosen to befriend first, why choose Betty Cooper - _plain old vanilla Betty Cooper?_

She suspects it’s a question Cheryl is desperately seeking the answer to, because she’s suddenly here and practically begging Veronica to try out for the River Vixens. Even more pairs of eyes find their way over, and Betty begins to feel self-conscious. Cheryl Blossom, self-appointed queen of Riverdale High’s social food chain, personally inviting the new girl to try out for her Vixens. That’s unheard of.

But then Veronica implores that Betty try out too, and even though Cheryl clearly wasn’t expecting the conversation to take this turn she plays nice and agrees to it. When she leaves and Betty begrudgingly explains how she was turned down last year for being too fat, Veronica looks genuinely offended - and then she starts using words like _smokeshow_ and _hot_ and _Queen Bey of this drab hive_ and _why is she doing this?_

She glances up and instantly regrets it because once again she is pulled into those bottomless eyes. The sun shines brown into Veronica’s irises and that prickly weightless feeling returns to her belly, quickly inflating and spreading to her chest. Does this happen to every person that locks eyes with this girl?

Veronica’s lips are moving, saying something about helping her out and having moves that she can show her if she really needed them - and before Betty can process it she’s already agreeing and telling Veronica to show her what these moves are, because she’s completely smitten even though she doesn’t really know why.

(But she begins to figure it out later in the school gymnasium, when a hurried, “Don’t freak out, just trust me” escapes those familiar red lips before they press themselves against her own. The initial shock quickly evaporates and that same weightlessness barrels back into her like an oncoming freight train, crashing into and demolishing everything she thought she knew about herself. A part of her knows this is just a ploy, a tactic to shock and awe, but another part of her - a part she never knew existed until now - feels like it’s waking up for the first time.)

 

* * *

 

It’s not even about Archie anymore, and maybe it never really was. The moment the bottle stopped spinning and Cheryl ordered Veronica into the closet with him Betty felt everything click together, and that’s why she had to leave early.

Archie Andrews is a manifestation of everything she’s expected to be: The All-American, straight-as-an-arrow, As and 100s across the board, pastel coloured, goody-two-shoes girl next door who’s supposed to fall in love with her childhood friend. They’re supposed to get married in a nice church and build a life together in a nice house with a white picket fence and two-point-five kids. Some unspoken universal law dictates that they’re meant for each other because _that’s just the way it is -_ Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews, the girl and boy next door.

The realization hits her as she sits by the steps to his house, it continues to pummel at her insides when she begs him to tell her that he loves her, and it delivers the final blow when he opens his mouth and confirms everything she’s been mulling over for the past few days. Her love for him is just a dream, an illusion crafted by outdated social conventions, her mother’s lofty expectations, and her unconscious desperation to meet both of them. Nearly a decade of believing she loved him spirals down the drain and away from her that night, and even though it’s childish to do so she blames Veronica Lodge for all of it.

Because when the bottle stopped spinning and Veronica Lodge disappeared behind that closet door with Archie Andrews, all of Thornhill stopped to stare. Everyone’s eyes darted to the door like throwing knives to a target, piercing the aged wood that protected the scandal happening on the other side. Everyone wanted to know what Veronica Lodge was planning to do with Archie Andrews inside that tiny closet. Everyone wanted to know what Veronica Lodge was capable of when she was alone with just one other person in the dark.

Because when Betty took a quick look around the room she saw it in all of their stares: It wasn’t Veronica they were envious of, and the realization that she feels the same - that she’s also wondering what that girl can do when she’s finally able to corner you - blasts into her like a wave of cold water.

Because if Veronica Lodge never stepped foot in Riverdale, if she never walked into Pop’s that night, the lie she’s been living all her life would still be believable, and Betty would continue living blissfully unaware.

 

* * *

 

Jealousy is a poison that courses white hot through her veins. It crawls under her skin, bubbling and boiling and burning. Scorching. Searing. Scalding.

She doesn’t know what spurred her into doing this - it’s not like she’s still upset over “The Closet Incident”, as Kevin puts it. Archie’s a part of her past now: Important - and always will be - but no longer relevant. He’s old news.

The surprise and shock that flits across Veronica’s pretty features when Betty invites Cheryl to Chez Salon instead ignites something inside of her; it flashes bright, illuminating every inch of her, and she suddenly feels invincible, impenetrable. The world is Betty Cooper’s oyster and she can do whatever she sees fit with it. The idea that Veronica’s upset over the fact that Betty decided to spend time with someone else is oddly exhilarating - rejuvenating, even. Veronica doesn’t like that she has to share, and Betty _loves_ it.

But it’s not until later on that week that she realizes the feeling is mutual.

Archie was one thing, but when she peers into the girls’ change room and finds Cheryl collapsed in Veronica’s arms with mascara running down her face a monster Betty never knew existed roars to life inside of her and claws at her insides, threatening to tear her open and wreck havoc on anything that dared to step into its path.

She asks her to Pop’s the second the pep rally ends, and when Veronica agrees the creature in her stills and curls up in the pit of her stomach, purring contentedly. When they slide into a booth and wait for their milkshakes Betty feels her muscles loosen and she gazes into those eyes and like clockwork she’s entranced by the endlessness of her pupils. The bright red and pink lights swirl around Veronica’s head like a neon halo and _holy shit is it possible for any mortal human to look this beautiful?_

“Can we make a vow?” That sultry voice pulls Betty back to this reality, and she notices for the first time that she’s sipping her vanilla milkshake. When did this get here? “That no matter what, no boy will ever come between us again.” The brown in her irises harden and Betty’s rib cage automatically contracts; she’s holding her breath again. There’s something about the way Veronica’s looking at her that implies there’s a double entendre that Betty isn’t picking up.

_No matter what, no boy will ever come between us again._

The severity of her stare is sending chills down her spine and she can feel it rippling through the insides of her thighs, and suddenly that strange weightlessness is back, pooling in her abdomen and trickling lower, lower, lower-

Archie and Jughead materialize out of nowhere and the monster in her belly snaps awake. Jughead easily hops in next to Veronica - “Jughead Jones the Third,” He greets with a smirk - and Betty’s fists are so tight she can see the tendons shifting underneath her skin.

The worst part about this is that Betty knows Jughead’s harmless - he’s expressed his disinterest for anything related to dating, relationships, and attraction of any kind several times throughout the years - but it rubs her the wrong way regardless. When Archie cracks a joke and Veronica laughs, it’s like nails to a chalkboard and the muscles in Betty’s jaw twitch. The thing inside of her growls and bares its teeth.

Veronica’s eyes find hers and the look on her face says it all: She knows Betty doesn’t want to share her either, and she’s going to exploit this any way she can.

_Game on._

 

* * *

 

It turns out that Veronica’s _very good_ at this, and Betty might have bitten off a lot more than she can chew.

It starts with her announcing that she has a date with star athlete - and resident playboy - Chuck Clayton. Archie’s ego looks like it needs resuscitating, Kevin’s hormones go awry, and Betty’s just trying to keep herself from punching a hole in the wall.

Everybody wants Veronica Lodge, so of course it’s no surprise that her first official date in Riverdale is granted to one of the social elite. Lodges only associate themselves with the best, after all.

…Wait, did she just hear him call her _V-Lo?_

When the day ends and Veronica’s traipsing down the school’s front steps with her arm looped around Chuck’s gigantic bicep Betty’s fingernails are tearing into her palms and she can taste the blood that’s dripping out from the small hole she had just bitten into the inside of her cheek.

When Veronica calls her later that night and babbles on about how sweet Chuck was, how he paid for her meal at Pop’s, how they kissed in his car, it takes a world’s worth of effort to keep Betty from throwing her phone across her room. Veronica _knows_ what this is doing to her - she can hear it in the playful lilt of her voice - and she _knows_ she’s winning.

Even though she initiated the vow, Veronica’s deliberately letting a boy come between them and Betty knows why she’s doing it. She’s testing the blonde’s willpower; she wants Betty to be the first one to break. She wants Betty to be the loser - but what Veronica doesn’t know (Not yet, anyway) is that Betty is annoyingly stubborn and resilient and it’s going to take more than a stupid jock with a six-pack to get her to admit defeat.

But Riverdale rears its ugly head before Betty can retaliate, and the pair find themselves uncovering terrible secrets and exposing Chuck for who he really is in the damp confines of Ethel Muggs’ pool house. It’s in that pool house that Betty discovers there is more to this monster than raging jealousy; there’s a darkness in her that’s restrained with very, _very_ loose chains, and it’s only a matter of time before it’s able to break free. This isn’t something a bottle of Adderall or an overbearing mother won’t be able to chase away.

But Veronica’s here, and Veronica’s holding onto her wrists, and Veronica’s gently pulling her fingers over the cuts on Betty’s palms, and Veronica’s holding her close, and Veronica’s stroking her hair, and Veronica’s telling her that she’s there for her no matter what - and a different kind of weightlessness seeps into Betty’s abdomen this time. It’s warm and gradual, a slow crescendo into something she thought she felt for Archie several lifetimes ago. Veronica holds Betty, and the monster inside of her skitters back into the shadows.

Whatever this thing is, it’s just as susceptible to Veronica’s charm as anyone else. If she wills it to appear, it appears. If she wants it to go away, it goes away. Veronica can control the parts of her that she can’t, and she’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.

 

* * *

 

Betty tells Veronica about her date with Trev, and their strange little game picks up where they left off. She insists that it’s just for investigational purposes, that this is something she needs to do in order to figure out what Jason and Polly were doing behind everyone’s backs - but Veronica doesn’t buy it. Ruby red lips pull back over perfect teeth in a bitter smile as she delivers a clipped, “Enjoy your date”, before spinning on her heel and walking away.

Betty breaks into Grundy’s car one night and when Veronica asks if she’s doing this because she still has feelings for Archie, the blonde resists the urge to laugh because it’s such a silly question - and honestly, if Veronica doesn’t know the answer by now then maybe they shouldn’t be playing this game. The tiny Volkswagen barely has any room for the both of them, and when Betty catches a glimpse of the back seat in the rear view mirror that prickly pins-and-needles sensation creeps into her thighs and she presses them together as tight as she can.

Betty spends the night before Jason’s funeral in bed with the covers bunched up in her fists because she knows Veronica’s at Thornhill, lying on silken sheets next to Cheryl Blossom. She knows Veronica’s there because Cheryl needs support, but knowing she’s spending the night with someone else makes the monster in her belly snarl. Its gnarled claws scape at her insides and she tries to distract herself with homework and Netflix but it’s not enough.

 

* * *

 

Jughead clambers into Betty’s room through her window and asks if they can _try something out._ When she asks what this something is, her eyes widen in surprise when he tells her that he wants to kiss her. It’s the last thing she would have expected, but when he explains he’s only doing this because he wants to confirm things for once and for all she finds herself immediately agreeing because she also needs to tie up some loose ends.

She closes her eyes, and when she feels his warmth against her the first things she sees are brown irises and a pearl necklace. _Well, that settles that._

The kiss is over as quickly as it began, and when the both of them pull apart there’s a knowing look on both of their faces. Jughead always knew he was disinterested in physical affection, but this is adolescence after all and it’s a confusing time for anyone going through it. He needed a confirmation, and Betty was more than happy to provide it for him.

They’ve been friends forever and the blonde feels like it’s safe to tell him that he ended up helping her out too (“Did I just permanently turn you off from guys? Was I _that_ bad?”; “Shut up, you know what I mean.”) - that, thanks to him, she finally understands a part of herself that she never knew existed until a few weeks ago when Veronica Lodge walked into Pop’s one night to pick up an order.

Jughead isn’t surprised, and she laughs because of course Jughead knows. She tells him about their stupid little game, how neither of them actually said it was a game but how the both of them _just knew_ that it was. He’s completely nonplussed and she doesn’t expect him to give her an answer because this isn’t his area of expertise, but he shakes it off with a dismissive chuckle. “I’m probably not the best person to listen to when it comes to this kind of stuff so take this with a grain of salt, but if you keep this up there’s no way this can end well.”

She hates that he’s hardly ever wrong.

 

* * *

 

Later, Betty flops face-first on her bed after what has been one of the most exhausting nights of her life. Her clothes are soaked from the rain, but she’s too tired and frustrated to change out of them right now; she just made a huge break in her and Jughead’s investigation, only for it to literally go up in flames. She can feel her phone poking into her leg and when she fishes it out of her pocket she notices a text notification on its screen. When she opens it and finds a selfie of Veronica in nothing but cat ears and a very tight leotard, her phone slips through her slackened grip and she chokes on nothing. A single line of text stretches across the bottom of the photo, but Betty doesn’t get to read it until much later when nagging thoughts about smooth legs and curves keep her up well into the night. Curiosity gets the best of her when she plucks her phone from the bedside table and her eyes sweep over the photo once more.

_You’re missing out._

The words tattoo themselves into her retinas as her hand snakes its way down her stomach and under her shorts.

 

* * *

 

“He _what?”_ Rage burns in Veronica’s eyes when Betty relays the story of her and Jughead’s kiss to her later on that week at the Blue and Gold office. The blonde’s staying late to catch up on some editing and Veronica decides to join her because neither of them can remember the last time they were able to just hang out, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Betty thought this meant that they were going to call a temporary truce and just enjoy each other’s company - to genuinely be _B and V_ and nothing more for a few hours - but apparently not. Still, she’s finding it very difficult to conceal her grin, and she knows Veronica knows this because she can see her expression growing more and more sour as she continues with her story.

“I know - it was kinda weird, but we talked it out and everything’s good. He was never really into that kind of stuff, which was why it threw me off at first, but now that I know why he wanted to do it, it makes more se-”

Suddenly Betty’s back is pressed against the edge of her desk and Veronica’s lips are taking hers hostage. Veronica’s tongue swipes across Betty’s bottom lip, prying her mouth open so it can enter. Her hands are framing Betty’s face, holding her in place, and when she leans in to press her hips against hers Betty can feel the corners of Veronica’s mouth turn upward in a devilish simper.

It happens so quickly that it takes a few seconds for the blonde’s brain to register what’s actually going on, and when everything finally processes Betty’s eyes widen and her heart begins to pound; Veronica’s kissing her again, but this time there’s no audience and there isn’t anyone to impress.

Betty pushes back - quite literally, as her body lurches forward and presses itself against Veronica’s; the brunette responds with a moan, which shoots down Betty’s spine and wipes out what little restraint she had left. She pushes again, her hips grinding firmly against the smaller girl’s, and the both of them move back until Veronica’s pushed up against a row of filing cabinets. Betty’s hands cup themselves over the curves of the brunette’s hips and now it’s her turn to hold the girl in place. When she dips one leg in between hers and feels the heat beating down on her thigh she groans into Veronica’s mouth and presses harder against her.

“Whatever happened to-” Betty gasps in between fervent kisses, “-vowing - to never let - a boy - come between us?” Her hands move further downward and they grasp the brunette’s thighs over her skirt.

Veronica drags her teeth down Betty’s bottom lip, and the blonde suppresses a mewl. Satisfied, the smaller of the two pulls away. Her chest is heaving and her lips are swollen, but Betty’s never seen anything more beautiful. “I figured it was about time I lay claim on the things that were supposed to be mine from the very beginning.”

Something in Betty’s lower region begins to throb, and she swallows hard. “So are you saying that-”

The brunette grabs a fistful of the taller girl’s cardigan in each hand and pulls her in, smashing their lips together.

When they break apart moments later Veronica’s voice is hoarse but mischievous. “You’re mine, Betty Cooper. You always were.”

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t disagree or protest. Veronica’s right - Betty _is_ hers. She was hers the second they laid eyes on each other that night at Pop’s, it’s just that she didn’t come to the realization until later on.

But now that Betty’s aware of it, Veronica takes every opportunity to remind her. In between classes, after Vixens practice, on the weekends when Alice isn’t home - they’re shoving each other against the closest available flat surface with their hands ghosting everywhere and their lips never separating. It’s their dirty little secret - one they intend to keep, partially because they don’t know how everyone will react and partially because the threat of getting caught makes it all the more exhilarating.

Yes, Betty Cooper is Veronica’s, but is Veronica Lodge Betty’s?

She wants to say yes, but Veronica Lodge _is_ Veronica Lodge, and every time she steps into a public space the world falls in love with her all over again. Boys deflate under her stare and girls find themselves unconsciously leaning in to smell her perfume when she walks past them. There’s an allure to her that no one can explain - it just happens. You’re just attracted to her. There’s no way around it. This girl is a walking aphrodisiac.

And Betty feels helpless because it’s not like she can do anything to let the world know they’re kind of seeing each other. If she so much as even holds Veronica’s hand when they’re at Pop’s or at school she’s sure someone will see, and with Riverdale being such a small town it’s guaranteed that Alice will find out in one way or another. If Polly was shipped off to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy for a forbidden romance with a boy she can’t imagine how much worse it would be if Alice catches her younger daughter with a girl. Plus, this whole _I like girls thing_ is still new to her, and while she’s accepted it for the most part she knows it’s going to take some time for her to fully adjust to it.

So as long as she’s forced to keep her relationship with Veronica under wraps she also has to put up with the entire damn universe trying to court her.

“Sorry,” The brunette flashes an apologetic grin at the boy looming over their table at lunch, “Already have plans that night.”

“Oh, you’re out of luck - I _just_ agreed to stay a few hours late with Betty here to help her plan for homecoming.” She bats her eyelashes at the basketball team’s star point guard during fifth period.

“That’s sweet, but unfortunately I’m swamped with Trig homework tonight.” The fellow River Vixen Veronica just turned down lets out a sigh before leaving the change room.

Betty tries not to look overtly upset, but it’s difficult when your secret girlfriend gets an average of a billion people asking her out per day. “It’s like the more times you reject them, the more of them appear.” She mutters as she shoves her clothes into her gym bag. “Won’t they start getting suspicious if you keep saying no?”

“People only want things they can’t have.” The shorter girl’s smile is impish.“And it’s not like I can say yes, B - I’m off the market, even if I can’t tell them that - so they can try all they want but they’re not getting any of this.” She gestures to herself, popping out her hip as she does so, and Betty can’t help but snort.

“But you can have anyone.” The blonde sighs as she zips up her bag and hoists it over her shoulder. “You have the pick of the whole fricking litter, and you ended up picking me. Why?”

Betty half-turns to face the brunette, whose eyes have softened into something she finds herself drowning in. Veronica places a hand on Betty’s chest and gently pushes her against the lockers. The blonde’s pulse quickens with panic and she takes a quick look around the room, but there’s no one there, and it’s deathly quiet.

“Oh, Betty.” Veronica’s voice is a low growl at the base of her throat; she leans in and drops a kiss on the corner of her mouth. _“Querida.”_ Her lips pucker against the skin under her ear, right where her jawline begins. Her hands slide over the curves of her breasts and she flexes her fingers. The resulting sensation throws Betty’s brain into a tailspin; her hands are frozen stiff against the cool metal of the lockers and her pelvis is aching. Her thighs feel like they’re melting away and she’s unsure how she’s still able to stand.

“You’re the only one, _meu amor.”_ Veronica’s breath, hot and husky, rushes into her ear. She trails kisses down her throat, and when she gets to Betty’s pulse point right above her collarbone she gently sucks at the skin before pulling away. “You have nothing to worry about.”

 

* * *

 

It turns out that Veronica does belong to Betty.

Because when Kevin tells Veronica about Ethel’s dad and she visibly breaks down in the middle of the busy hallway before scampering off to the change room, Betty’s the only one who notices and chases after her.

Because when Veronica’s sobbing on that dirty floor, Betty’s the only one who holds her close - and she’s the only one who gets on her hands and knees and picks up every single stray pearl.

Because when Veronica’s getting her head bitten off by Mrs. Muggs at the hospital later that afternoon, Betty’s the only one holding her hands and helping her get through it.

Because when Veronica’s life collapses the world suddenly turns a blind eye and she’s no longer what they want. She’s the broken shards of china hastily shoved under the rug because she’s no longer pretty and presentable. People only want Veronica Lodge when she’s easy to care for, and Betty hates that their love for her is so conditional because they just don’t understand that when you love someone you love every piece of them - even the ones that are sharp and jagged, even the ones that hurt if you touch them the wrong way. You learn to be delicate, you learn how to handle them properly, you teach yourself to be patient so you know what to do when she needs you to hold her together.

“You’re the only person who’s ever paid attention to me.” She says later that evening in the Pembrooke. The disastrous afternoon spent in the hospital exhausted the both of them and they’re tangled together on the couch in front of the fireplace.

“But everyone pays attention to you. Don’t you see how they stare?” Betty reaches up to weave her fingers through Veronica’s dark hair. The brunette is resting on top of her and she can feel every curve and contour of her body against hers, but she’s never felt so comfortable. It’s like they’re meant to fit together - two pieces of the same puzzle.

The smaller girl props the upper half of her body up on her elbows, blinking up at the blonde with doe eyes. The fireplace flickers orange in those chestnut irises and it casts a soft yellow glow on her skin. “They don’t look at me the way you do.”

The unmistakable yearning in her tone is what drives Betty to kiss her. She reaches up to press her palms on the sides of her face, and when she feels the brunette’s hips buck against hers her back arches.

 _“Eu sou sua,”_ Veronica kisses her forehead, _“Sou sua,”_ The end of her nose, _“Sou sua,”_ Her left cheek, _“Sou sua,”_ Her right cheek.

 _“Para sempre.”_ Veronica whispers before she kisses Betty’s lips.

 

* * *

 

Veronica Lodge’s body is a church and Betty confesses her sins every night when she’s alone in her room. Her fingers weave deft sins between her legs and her lips moan forbidden hymns for no one’s ears but her own.

Her hips rock and her spine curves backward as she remembers the way Veronica’s thighs looked when she upstaged Cheryl earlier that day during Vixens practice, how her smooth skin was stretched taut over toned muscles as she flowed with the music.

She imagines what it’s like to move alongside her as she dances, to feel the waves of her body shift against hers beneath the pulse of a song. Betty pictures her hands roaming everywhere, exploring every inch of her, sliding across Veronica’s skin and running under her shirt so she can feel the planes of her stomach.

When she comes, her toes curl and her fists clench. She bites down on her pillow so hard that she nearly swallows a couple feathers.

You can say she worships regularly.

 

* * *

 

It’s strange, what alcohol makes people do.

Betty doesn’t know what time it is, but she knows it’s late and it’s way too loud in here. The music that’s blasting from Dilton Doiley’s DJ table is making Archie’s entire house shake. Bodies are swinging everywhere, rubbing up against each other, and she’s sure she has five different drinks soaked into the fabric of her sweater.

She’s not in the mood for this. Between getting chewed out by Jughead for just being a good friend (Although she will admit that she and Archie probably should have asked him if he wanted a party before they threw him one) and Cheryl and Chuck making things worse, she just wants to go home and sulk - but she knows she can’t do that, so she resorts to the next best thing, which is getting pissed drunk.

She holds her red plastic cup high over her head as she squeezes her way through the mass of inebriated dancers, trying to find her girlfriend - whom she lost sometime after their quiet little gathering grew into whatever the hell it is now. Betty’s a little worried because she knows Veronica’s stressed with her dad threatening her to testify on his behalf - she gave her a brief explanation in the kitchen after Jughead blew out his candles - and she wants to make sure that she’s okay.

Reggie accidentally shoulders her and spills half of his cup on her jeans, but when she half-turns to yell at him he’s already lost in the throng of people - and then it’s like all of the lights swivel around and focus on the person on the opposite end of the room. Betty’s eyes widen when she sees Veronica swaying sensually to the music with her hands in the air. Her eyes are half-closed and her lips are moving as she’s murmuring the lyrics of the song that’s playing to herself, and there’s a fine sheen of sweat on her neck and chest.

The blonde can feel that weightlessness returning, and the way it’s mixing with the warm haziness of her drunkenness is pleasant but also dangerous. She takes a quick look around the room and she nearly crushes her cup with her fist when she realizes she isn’t the only one staring. There’s a hunger in everyone’s eyes as they watch Veronica Lodge’s hands sink, skimming down her sides, over her hips, and down to her thighs. Her tight black skirt accentuates every curve, every bend of that wonderful body, and-

Betty’s tossing her cup aside and charging her way through the crowd, not caring who she bumps into or whose drink she’s spilling. When she’s close enough Veronica’s jaw drops in surprise - “B! I’ve been looking all over for you!” - and she pulls her close, crossing her wrists behind Betty’s head and grinning up at her with those perfect teeth. Her eyes are wild, searching the blonde’s face for something, and her cheeks are flushed red. She smells like rum and roses.

Betty leans in and mumbles, “I’ve been looking for you too,” before placing her hands on the smaller girl’s hips. She brings their bodies even closer, remembering to move with the music as she does so. A shock of panic courses through her for a moment, because they’re pressed up against each other in the midst of a sea of their classmates - but then she remembers the way they were looking at Veronica when she was dancing by herself, and her alcohol-steeped brain comes to the conclusion that there’s no reason to care anymore because Veronica is hers and everybody needs to know so they can just back the fuck off.

She reaches up, takes one of Veronica’s hands, and spins her on the spot so that the smaller girl’s back is facing her. Betty’s hands skate down Veronica’s waist, grinning when the brunette closes her eyes at the contact, and stops to rest on the bumps of her hips. She pulls her in, closing the space between them, and a liquid heat begins to trickle into the space between her legs when she feels _all_ of Veronica against her. The music thumps in her ears as she moves in to press her face into the side of the smaller girl’s neck, breathing in her perfume. She feels the rumble of a moan escape Veronica’s throat and she suppresses the urge to nip at the sensitive skin. Betty can feel Veronica’s pulse hammering against her cheek, and it’s _amazing._

Betty doesn’t remember how much longer they last on the dance floor, because before she knows it she’s pinning Veronica against the door of Archie’s bedroom. The brunette crushes their lips together and reaches up to pull at the hair tie holding Betty’s ponytail; the blonde sighs into the other girl’s mouth when she feels her hair fall around her shoulders.

“Bed.” The smaller girl breathes into her ear, and Betty nods. She pulls Veronica by the wrist as she makes her way towards the bed, and when Veronica crawls in she follows suit, throwing one leg over and slowly lowering herself onto her. She rolls her hips and smiles against Veronica’s mouth when the brunette lets out a long mewl, and her hands are dangerously close to the hem of her skirt. She breaks their kiss and sprinkles smaller ones across Veronica’s jawline and down her throat, gently nibbling and sucking at the skin. There’s a nice purple bruise forming on her collarbone and Betty feels pride swelling in her chest before tilting her head upward to capture Veronica’s lips with hers again. She’s hers, she’s all hers, and she wants the world to know.

But when she feels Veronica’s hands toying with the waistband of her jeans, something snaps awake in her and she hums for a moment before pulling away. A part of her is screaming in protest, wondering why she’s putting a stop to this, but she pushes it farther and farther away until she can’t hear it anymore.

The brunette’s eyes are wide with panic. “What’s wrong? Did I do something-” Her voice is nasally and out of breath, and her chest is rapidly rising and falling. She’s so fucking beautiful that it hurts.

“No,” Betty reassures her, dipping down to tuck a strand of black hair behind her ear, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just…” She feels the prickle of embarrassment beginning to worm its way in. “I haven’t…this is my-” She fruitlessly tries to complete her sentence by motioning with her hands.

“Hey.” Veronica reaches up, cupping Betty’s cheek with one hand, and gently pulls her down for a soft kiss. “Breathe.” Her thumb grazes the blonde’s skin in slow strokes. “What is it? Are you nervous? Because if you are, we can slow down.”

The ends of their noses brush against against each other for a brief moment before Betty finally manages to pull herself together. “You…you know I haven’t done anything like this with anyone before.” Veronica nods, and she continues. “If this is going to happen, it shouldn’t be drunkenly in Archie’s room during a house party.” She can already feel the blush invading her cheeks. “I want it to be memorable…especially if it’s going to be with you.”

Something in Veronica’s stare melts, and it tugs at Betty’s heart strings. The brunette slides her hand to the back of the blonde’s neck and pulls her in for another kiss. For some reason, the tender kisses - the ones with no tongue, just a slow push of their lips against each other - feel more intimate than the heated ones. “Then this can wait.”

Smiling, Betty rolls off and pulls Veronica into her arms. She buries her face in her hair and breathes in, and the scent of roses and poorly mixed cocktails comes back. She can feel the brunette’s fingers running up and down her arm, and it’s oddly relaxing. “Thank you.”

The smaller girl pulls back so she can face her, and she’s just about to say something when the door crashes open and Cheryl’s suddenly hovering over them. “There you are - I’ve been looking for you useless lesbians everywhere.” She places a hand on her hip; her expression is steely, completely unaffected by the fact that two of her female classmates are disheveled in a bed together. “If you’re finished with your t.A.T.u music video re-enactment, we’re just about to play a game downstairs - and I want the both of you to be there.” And in a flash of red hair she’s gone.

Betty’s already scrambling for her hair tie, but when she notices Veronica chuckling to herself she raises a flaxen eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

Veronica swings her legs over the edge of the bed and fluffs up her hair. “One: I’m bi, not a lesbian, and two: _Useless?_ She should have walked in five minutes earlier.”

 

* * *

 

Alice shuffles into her room the next morning with a much needed glass of water and some aspirin. After discussing F.P. and Joaquin, she looks at her daughter dead in the eye and says, “Now, about you and that Lodge girl.”

Betty’s eyes widen and the temperature in her cheeks begins to climb. How _fast_ does word travel around this stupid town? “Mom-”

“You know how I feel about that family, Elizabeth.” Betty hates how unreadable her mom can be. Her expression and tone are flat, so she can’t tell if she’s upset or surprised. “You know what they are, what they’ve done.”

“You mean what _Hiram_ is and what _Hiram_ did.” Betty fires back. “Veronica is her own person, completely separate from her dad, and she’s been trying really hard to let people know that. She isn’t guilty by association, Mom.”

Sighing, Alice sort of changes the subject. “How long has this been going on? How long have you…” She awkwardly clears her throat before leaning in a little closer and lowering her voice, as if she’s afraid someone will hear. “…known you were sexually attracted to other girls?”

Oh, God. The way she says it makes Betty even more reluctant to talk about it. “Okay, first of all, _don’t_ word it like that, that’s just weird-”

“You’re a teenager, Betty, and teenagers go through confusing phases and sometimes kids like to experiment with-”

“Veronica is _not_ a phase and she definitely isn’t an _experiment.”_ Betty shakes her head in disbelief. Is she really having this conversation with her mother right now? “She cares about me, and I care about her. She’s very important to me. That’s all you need to know, alright? And if you don’t like it, go ahead and dump me at the Sisters of Quiet Mercy if you think that’ll make things better - but there’s nothing you can do that’ll keep me from seeing her.”

Knowing the conversation is over, Alice throws her hands up in defeat. “Great, just great - one daughter’s pregnant and now the other one’s a lesbian. It’s never a dull day with the Coopers. Whatever happened to Archie? Why couldn’t you be dating that Jones boy instead? Sure, his father’s a deadbeat and a degenerate, but at least-”

_“Mom.”_

Alice rises from her spot on Betty’s bed and moves towards the doorway. “We’re continuing this discussion when your hangover is gone.”

When Alice leaves, Betty immediately searches for her phone. She quickly texts Veronica a Coles Notes version of what just happened; Veronica replies almost instantly, and the words that pop up on Betty’s screen bring a smile to the blonde’s face.

_Ooh, I love a little forbidden romance - speaking of which, are you up for an early morning tryst at Pop’s? Pancakes are on me, Juliet._

 

* * *

 

“I shipped you guys from day one.” Kevin giddily chimes in at lunch.

“Hashtag Beronica Is Endgame.” Josie beams after bumping into her in the student lounge.

“If you didn’t see this coming you’re either blind or Archie Andrews.” Cheryl deadpans during Vixens practice.

Riverdale’s casual acceptance of their relationship comes as a shock to Betty. So many of them foresaw this. Was she _that_ bad at hiding it? Veronica was never exactly in the closet to begin with - everyone knows she “enjoys chocolate and vanilla”, as Jughead so aptly put it - but she figured people would be more surprised with her. It’s like the whole “I was in love with Archie for nearly ten years” thing never happened.

“It would have been a plot twist worthy of Chuck Palahniuk if you weren’t so obvious about your attraction to Veronica in the first place.” Jughead points out as they make their way towards the stage later that night at homecoming.

“Obvious?” Betty gapes as Archie performs a quick sound check with his guitar. “How was I obvious?”

Jughead crinkles his forehead in faux thoughtfulness. “Well, the eye sex, for one.” He smirks when her eyes go wide. “If you’re not ogling Veronica you’re probably asleep _dreaming_ about ogling Veronica.”

“I do not _ogle_ her.” Betty grumbles, though her face is tinged pink. Jughead scoffs at her reply, and her eyes narrow as the lights dim.

 

* * *

 

When they find Jughead at Pop’s and tell him the truth about his father, he leaves for the police station. Shortly afterward, Archie quickly announces that he’s heading home. He probably sensed the tension between the two girls and made the wise decision to stay out of it.

“It was a performance, B,” Veronica rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time. “Archie and I were just having fun.”

“Having fun!” Betty’s laugh is more of a bark as she throws her hands up in the air. “So leaning into him and stroking his face is _having fun._ If what you’re saying is true, I’ve been _having fun_ the wrong way my entire life.” She angrily shoves the straw of her milkshake into her mouth.

“You’re blowing things way out of proportion-”

“Am I?” Her eyes are frosty, accusatory. The creature in her stomach begins to growl. “What about when you called Archie while we were out looking for Jughead? You called him… _just to talk?_ ”

“Am I not allowed to call my friend when I’m upset?” The brunette quirks an eyebrow, her expression annoyed. “I figured Archie would have been easier to talk to, since you were too busy accusing us of betraying Jughead.”

“You may have found out something important about Jason’s murder but at the end of the day you _did_ betray Jughead.” She counters, “I told you to stay out of F.P.’s business and you did the exact opposite.” She flops back against her seat, shaking her head in disbelief. “He’s supposed to be your friend and what do you do? You break into his trailer because you’re so wound up about your dad being the mastermind behind everything. Have you ever stopped to realize that maybe the world _doesn’t_ revolve around you, Veronica? Didn’t you ruin enough peoples’ lives when you were in New York?”

The monster lunges forward and snaps its teeth.

Betty regretted her words the second they stumbled out of her mouth. The shock and hurt on Veronica’s face cracks her sternum in two, splitting her ribs apart and allowing her heart to spill out in front of her.When Veronica wordlessly gets up to leave the diner, Betty doesn’t follow her because she knows there’s no point. The damage has been dealt and her only option is to sit among the wreckage. Her fingernails have already slashed their way into her palms and she can feel the blood, warm and sticky, squeezing out of the newly opened wounds.

The thing inside of her, the thing born from the darkness she’s been trying so hard to ignore for so many years, purrs triumphantly and coils up in the pit of her stomach, satisfied with what it’s done.

 

* * *

 

Veronica avoids her for the next several days, and Betty doesn’t blame her. She distracts herself with the Blue and Gold, researching and editing and writing into the late hours of the night. She finds solace with Jughead, who is also going through his own personal hell. They stay late at the office together, and when Betty’s stuck at home and her pining for Veronica gets the best of her Jughead climbs in through her window with takeout from Pop’s and for a moment the world doesn’t seem so bad.

“So, about that exposé you’ve been writing for my dad,” Jughead’s words are half-muffled thanks to the burger he’s currently stuffing into his mouth, “How’s that coming along?”

Betty grabs her laptop and flips it around in her arms so that it’s facing him, her grin wide and victorious. “Already posted it. Hard copies come in circulation starting tomorrow.”

Jughead’s eyes widen, and for a second she thinks he’s going to drop his burger. “You’ve been plowing through this stuff, haven’t you?” He pauses to suck the ketchup from his fingers. “Lemme guess - Veronica still isn’t talking.” He points to the neglected, grease-stained paper bag sitting next to her. “Eat.”

Sighing, Betty plucks a few french fries out of the bag and dutifully nibbles on them. “No, she isn’t.” She really isn’t in the mood to talk about it, but she knows she’ll have to eventually. She’s been trying to figure out how to apologize, but none of her ideas seem good enough. Jughead might be able to give her a second opinion.

“Ah, young love.” He says whimsically, and Betty rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, your raven-haired Daisy Buchanan won’t stay mad at you for much longer.”

“What makes you say that?”

“This is Riverdale, Betts, and sooner or later some other unspeakable scandal is going to rise up from the shadows and distract everyone from their problems.” He takes another bite of his burger. “Like, how do we know _Archie_ isn’t a secret Blossom? How probable is it for two ginger families to be in such close proximity without being related?”

Betty laughs and nearly chokes on her fries. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Oh, and _you_ being a Blossom this whole time isn’t?” He smirks. “Seriously, though - just talk to her. She’s probably waiting for you to start the conversation anyway. Isn’t passive-aggressiveness a staple of the Angry Girlfriend trope?”

“Like you would know.”

“If her name isn’t Sara Lee or Wendy then no, I wouldn’t,” He shrugs, “But what I _do_ know is that the key to conflict resolution is healthy and open communication between every afflicted party.”

“Initiating the conversation is the hardest part.” She whines. “She’s just so…she’s _Veronica._ She could have whoever she wants, and out of all the people she could have chosen she picked me.” Betty shakes her head and drops her gaze to her lap. “But I screwed up, Juggie. Like always, I screw it up, and I’m scared I won’t be able to fix it. What if she realizes she made a mistake with me?”

“But you just said that out of all the people she could have chosen, she picked you.” Jughead rifles through his takeout bag, searching for his second burger. “She wants _you,_ Betty - not Archie, not Chuck, not Reggie, though I can’t fathom why anyone in their right mind would want him anyway, not Cheryl, - _you.”_ He pauses to shove a handful of fries in his mouth and swallows in record time. “Riverdale is slim pickens, so the fact that she wanted you out of the meagre variety this town has to offer says a lot about how she feels. If this were unfixable, I’m pretty sure she would’ve let you know by now. Talk to her. Tell her you screwed up, tell her you said things you didn’t mean. Let her know _you_ know she picked you.”

Betty chuckles. “Y’know, for someone who claims to be anti-relationship, you sure give good advice.”

He throws her a grin as he unwraps his burger. “To quote the great Homer Simpson: Just because I don’t care doesn’t mean I don’t understand.”

 

* * *

 

The next few days throw so much drama in Betty’s way that she doesn’t have the time to ask Veronica if she wants to talk. With Jughead getting transferred to another school, Alice disclosing that Betty and Polly have a secret older brother, and Cheryl nearly drowning in the frozen hell that is Sweetwater River, _exhausted_ is an understatement.

Though she has to admit that calling out all of Riverdale on their shadiness during the jubilee was “pretty epic”, as Archie describes it later that evening at their usual booth in Pop’s. The redhead decided that after everything they’ve been through, they deserved a celebratory night out - and, as expected, he’s completely oblivious to the various ways Veronica’s trying to avoid making eye contact with Betty. He doesn’t even make a comment when the brunette decides to sit next to him instead of her.

Still, the four of them manage to laugh and chit-chat the night away, clanking their milkshake glasses together before sipping half of them in one gulp and collectively groaning from the subsequent brain freeze. Archie begins to choke from laughing so hard, and Veronica has to punch him on the back in order to clear his airways. Jughead’s on his third burger, and Betty’s scrunching her nose in disgust and wondering how he can eat so much - and when he tells her he’s a medical anomaly and vows to donate his body to science when he dies, she laughs into her milkshake and flecks of vanilla slop all over the table.

But nothing good lasts forever, and a couple of hours later Archie drags Jughead away because, “Didn’t you say you cleaned the trailer after you trashed it? I gotta see this, man”, and that leaves B and V awkwardly avoiding each other’s gazes as they step out into the parking lot.

Betty remembers the conversation she had with Jughead, how she needs to be the one to start the conversation. This is as good of an opportunity as any, but what is there to say? “Veron-”

“Do you wanna go back to my place? With a wine and valium cocktail that I know she probably had not too long ago, my mom’s probably knocked out by now so she won’t disturb us.” Veronica is innocently blinking at her, looking as if they haven’t been avoiding each other like the plague for the past few days.

The question is sudden and unexpected, and Betty’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water at least twice before she finally scrapes up a reply. “Uh, okay.”

This can only end in two ways: They either kiss and make up, or everything comes crashing down in a fiery mess.

 

* * *

 

The Pembrooke is eerily still as both girls tiptoe inside of it. It’s dark, and the air is thick with a foreboding feeling, like something terrible is lurking somewhere, waiting for its cue to spring up and ruin everything. It’s probably because Hiram Lodge is expected to return to Riverdale by the end of the month, but what does Betty know - she’s currently freaking out at the ambiguity of Veronica’s invitation. Why, after days of silence, is she suddenly pulling Betty by the hand towards her bedroom?

When she closes the door, Veronica speaks up for the first time since she asked Betty to come over. “These past few days have been hellish to say the least, but if there’s one thing I learned it’s that the people you love can be torn away from you in an instant and you have to appreciate them while you’re still blessed with their presence.”

Betty’s failing to comprehend where Veronica is getting all of this from. The brunette reaches for her hands and gently pries them open, revealing the scars on her palms. “When Cheryl fell through the ice, I thought about you. I thought about everything you’ve been going through with your family, with the constant pressure and all of those dumb expectations your mom keeps putting on you, and how you’ve been driven to hurt yourself as a coping mechanism.” She brushes her fingers over the wounds, her eyes downcast. “It got me thinking…if Cheryl on the brink of death was scary, how much worse would I be if it was you instead? And then I started thinking about how I’d just shut down if I ever lost you, and-”

There are at least a million things Betty could have said in reply, but she opted to kiss her instead because if she actually did say anything they would probably be standing there for years. Affection, warm and wholesome and pure, blooms in the dead centre of the blonde’s chest; she _loves_ this girl, she loves Veronica, and she can’t convey how much she loves her in just a sentence or two. It’s just not possible. There aren’t enough words in any vocabulary of any existing language that can fully describe how hard Betty Cooper has fallen for Veronica Lodge.

But when they pull apart she knows she has to say _something,_ so she says, “I shouldn’t have flipped out on you. You don’t ruin peoples’ lives, Ronnie. It was such a terrible thing for me to say and I want you to know that I’m really sorry. You do the exact opposite of ruin - well, at least for me.” She sighs. “It was stupid of me to get jealous.”

She closes her eyes as the brunette reaches towards her to stroke the side of her face. “You wouldn’t have flipped out if I wasn’t all over Archie like Jughead at a buffet.” Veronica bites her lip, and Betty finds herself transfixed on it. “That was totally not cool and very Old Veronica of me, and I apologize. I swear, it’s never happening again.” She pauses again, and the bashfulness in her expression is so adorable Betty has to restrain herself from kissing her a second time. “And if we’re talking about jealousy, maybe a part of me got upset because I’m a little envious of you and Jughead.”

“Jughead?” Well, that was unexpected. “The only Betty he’s in love with is Crocker.”

“I know - I’ve seen him eat and his digestive system is a mystery I will spend the rest of my life trying to solve,” Veronica grumbles, “But I get annoyed anyway, and I have no idea why. You guys spend so much time together, and there’s nothing wrong with that - you’re allowed to hang out with your friends - but…there’s a part of me that wants you all to myself, and sometimes it’s hard to get that part of me to stay in her lane.”

Veronica Lodge, _jealous?_ Of _Jughead Jones?_ How much weirder is this night going to get? Since when was it possible for Veronica to be envious of anyone? “How can you be jealous?” The blonde takes a few steps closer, narrowing the space between them.

“You’re a flower in a field of weeds, Betty Cooper - you’re smart, impossibly beautiful, kind, an amazing writer, and you always put others before yourself. You have no idea how special you are.” Veronica’s laugh is high and silvery, and Betty remembers how much she missed hearing it. “Why wouldn’t I be jealous?”

“Because I’m me and you’re you.” The blonde mumbles as she clumsily weaves their fingers together. “You’re a million kinds of amazing and I’m just kind of a mess.”

“I’m a mess too, B - an amazing mess, but a mess nonetheless.” Veronica grins and pulls Betty in, letting go of her hands so she can place hers on the blonde’s waist. “But we help each other through our messes, and that’s why we’re so good together.”

Betty’s smiling now. She ducks so she can bump her forehead against the smaller girl’s. “You really think so?”

“I will always want you, mess or not.” Veronica’s voice drops in volume, only a breath away from a whisper. “And when we Lodge women want something, we don’t stop until we get it.”

Veronica’s eyes are dark, so dark, and Betty can feel herself falling, falling falling…

And suddenly Veronica’s hand is on Betty’s abdomen, firmly but gently pushing her back until she’s flattened against the door. Her hand slides up, moving past her chest, snaking up the side of Betty’s neck, and finally resting on her cheek before she pulls the blonde down to meet her lips. The kiss is tender, slow, and tentative, and Betty leans in and her hands move to the smaller girl’s hips.

Veronica’s other hand slides up into Betty’s hair, twisting the honey blonde tendrils around her fingers. She gently bites down on the taller girl’s bottom lip for a moment before massaging it with her tongue. Betty knows what this means, and she obediently parts her lips; she can feel the brunette grin against her mouth as her tongue makes its way in, and her grin widens when Betty whimpers in response.

They continue like this for a little while, until Betty feels Veronica’s fingers twisting the buttons of her coat - which, to be honest, she forgot she was still wearing. “Can I?” The smaller of the two breathes into the blonde’s ear. She slowly rolls her hips, making sure every curve moves against hers, and _oh God._

“Mm,” Betty’s so lightheaded from the contact she can’t find it in herself to form proper sentences.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, but that wasn’t a yes or a no.” Veronica chuckles, breaking away from the blonde’s mouth to mottle her throat with kisses.

“W-well,” Betty grunts, her hands twitching against the smaller girls’ hipbones, “You - y-you aren’t making this any easier!” When Veronica laughs again, she pouts. “Yes. Yes, _please.”_ She huffs.

“Your wish is my command.” With a teasing simper, Veronica dutifully undoes the buttons on Betty’s coat and it spills to the floor, crumpling around her ankles. It only takes a second for the brunette to take her own coat off; in moments her hands are back in Betty’s hair and her mouth is on her collarbone. Betty groans, her hips canting forward; her limbs feel like they’re disintegrating, but she knows she has to move sooner or later so she forces her hands downward, running along the other girl’s skirt.

She isn’t sure if Vixens practice is really doing a number on her arms or if the mere presence of Veronica is giving her an adrenaline rush, but when she reaches downward to cup the bottom of the brunette’s thighs and hoists her up it happens swiftly and effortlessly. Veronica wraps her legs around Betty’s waist and the pressure it puts on her midsection sends something hot and prickly to her hips. The brunette reaches down and flattens her palms against Betty’s cheeks before kissing her again.

Betty begins to walk forward, hoping to whatever deity is listening that she’s heading in the right direction. They bump up against the foot of Veronica’s bed - _Thank you, Jesus -_ and she steps out of her heels as she sets the smaller girl down on the edge of the mattress and eases herself between her legs. Veronica unceremoniously kicks her own shoes off, and the girls giggle together before silencing each other with another kiss.

Betty’s never done this with anyone before, but for some reason it feels so natural with Veronica. The seamless way their bodies move together feels so right, like this is how things are supposed to be. They’re perfectly in tune with each other’s movements; Betty’s never felt so in sync with someone like this before and it’s kind of intoxicating.

And then Veronica leans back, eyes hooded, face flushed, and mouth slightly parted - and there’s a rush of the same feeling Betty felt when Veronica was talking about how worried she was about her smashing into her chest, flooding every nook and cranny of her body, and filling her up completely. She is in love with this girl. She is haphazardly, irrevocably, and unabashedly in love with her.

“I love you, Veronica Lodge.” When the words slip from her tongue they’re full and warm.

Veronica’s eyes widen, but not in a _Oh my God, did you just say that_ kind of way, much to Betty’s relief. The moonlight coming in from the window brings out the warmth of the brown in her irises, and her shoulders shrink as she lets out a soft sigh. “And I love you, Elizabeth Cooper.”

Something warm swells in Betty’s chest, but she wrinkles her nose. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you feel the same way, but don’t call me by my full name _now -_ my _mom_ only calls me Elizabeth…”

And Veronica laughs, and it rings with so much love and adoration that Betty can’t help but lean down and kiss her again, and again, and again. Her hands play along the hem of the brunette’s skirt, and she can feel Veronica’s hands streaking through her hair, roaming every which way. She knows Veronica’s waiting for her to give her the green light to move further. “Ronnie-” She shifts her hands to the small of the brunette’s back, skimming up towards her shoulders and fumbling with the zipper of her dress when she finds it.

 _“Yes.”_ Veronica’s reply is more of a gasp than anything. Betty’s fingers are trembling as she slowly pulls on the tiny metal tag, and when she hears the hum of the zipper coming undone her heart is pounding so hard she can feel it slamming against her chest. Her pulse thuds in her ears as Veronica pulls her arms out of her dress, and when she pushes it downward and away from her chest the blonde’s mouth goes completely dry.

Seeing Veronica in her bra isn’t exactly anything new - they’ve changed around each other before and after Vixens practice - but the context surrounding her half-nakedness is what wipes every comprehensible thought from Betty’s mind. It’s lace - because of course it is - and intricately patterned in black and deep purple. The moonlight accentuates her impossibly smooth skin, and she never used the word _delicious_ to describe someone’s shoulders before - but there’s a first time for everything.

“Now it’s your turn.” Veronica tugging at the end of her top is what brings Betty back. She doesn’t know how long she’s been staring, but it must have been a sizeable amount of time because there’s a mischievous look on the brunette’s face.

“Er, right-” She reaches up and her breath hitches in her throat when she feels Veronica pushing her shirt up over her breasts and towards her shoulders. The taller girl finishes the job, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it aside. Her plain, flesh-coloured cotton bra isn’t much to look at and she’s suddenly very aware of the freckles on her shoulders and arms, but the way Veronica’s looking at her - like it’s Christmas morning and she discovered she got exactly what she wanted - soothes her and she calms down somewhat.

“You’re so beautiful,” Veronica murmurs against her lips; she grasps her face in her hands and begins to lean back against the mattress, shimmying up until her whole body is lying down. Her eyes find Betty’s and she holds her in place for a moment. “If we’re going too fast, or if there’s anything you don’t feel comfortable with, you’ll let me know, right?”

Betty’s hovering over her with her face pressed into the side of her neck. “Yes,” She hums, “And the same goes for you.”

“Great,” Veronica’s grin returns, “Now that that’s settled, we can have some fun.” She nudges Betty’s forehead with her nose, and the taller of the two glances up so they can kiss once more.

Betty fully lowers herself onto Veronica, and the heat of the brunette’s skin against hers is electrifying. The blonde’s eyes flutter to a close as she feels the smaller girl’s hands ghost along her biceps, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She’s so tipsy for Veronica that she doesn’t realize the brunette lifting her hips off the bed so she can finally pull herself out of her dress.

The sight of Veronica in nothing but her (Matching, because duh) underwear makes Betty so dizzy that she has to steady herself with her palms against the mattress. Veronica knows what she’s doing to her; her lips are tilted in that all-too-familiar smirk and her eyes are even darker than before. Betty stares at her bare thighs and comes to the conclusion that if she were to go blind at this very instant and this was the last thing she’d ever see, she would be totally fine with it.

“Come here,” Veronica whispers, her voice hoarse but aching, and it sends another jolt to Betty’s pelvis. The blonde feels one of Veronica’s hands sliding over to her chest, curving over a breast. “Is it okay if-”

“Mmhmm.” Betty’s eyes are clamped shut and she’s biting her lip because even though she didn’t mean it (At least not yet) the pad of Veronica’s index finger is resting on her already stiff nipple, and the sensation is white hot and tearing through her brain. She’s barely able to give her girlfriend a nod of approval, bobbing her head just once before forcing herself to fall forward so she can kiss her.

Veronica squeezes, and Betty unravels under her touch. She nearly crumples on top of her, groaning into her mouth, and the shorter of the two giggles before flipping them over so that Betty’s lying down instead. The blonde breaks their kiss to crane her neck back, moaning a little louder as Veronica continues to palm her chest. She can feel the smaller girl’s lips against her neck, hot and wet, nipping against her skin, and all she can think about right now is the way Veronica feels against her, how soft her skin is, how she smells like flowers, how the hand on her breast is so firm and tender at the same time.

“Y-you can leave-” She gasps when she feels Veronica gently biting down on her shoulder, “-m-marks, if you want.”

And so she does - and she leaves a whole lot of them too (But Betty won't find out until tomorrow).

She can feel Veronica’s other hand sliding underneath her, moving under her shoulders and towards the clasp of her bra. She can sense that the brunette is just about to ask her if she can take it off, but she wordlessly gives her permission, pushing herself up and away from the mattress. Veronica quickly removes the bra and tosses it over her shoulder, and the wonder in her expression makes Betty want to kiss her all over again.

Lying on Veronica’s bed with her chest exposed to her should make her feel self-conscious, but it’s different. Veronica makes her feel comfortable in her own skin; she makes her feel safe, loved, accepted. If the most beautiful person in the universe thinks _she’s_ beautiful, then why should she feel anything but that when she’s around her?

Veronica moves to sit up, and the sight is almost too much for Betty to bear. Veronica Lodge is straddling her hips in nothing but a lacy, sexy bra and an even lacier, sexier pair of panties. The blonde’s brain is foggy with arousal, but she manages to retain a semblance of consciousness so she can briefly think about how many people would kill to be in her place right now.

“God,” Veronica murmurs; she’s gazing at her like she’s a piece at the Louvre. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

And that’s what does it for her; the blonde raises herself up on her elbows, and the brunette responds by leaning down to meet her halfway. The pressure of Veronica’s weight on her hips suddenly makes Betty very aware of the fact that she’s still wearing her skirt; she can feel the fabric shifting against her skin, and it’s starting to annoy her. She reaches downward and begins to tug the skirt downward, and she smiles against Veronica’s mouth when she feels the brunette’s smaller hands move on top of her own, helping her with the offending garment.

Veronica briefly lifts herself off Betty so they can pull the skirt all the way down, and when the blonde kicks it away they laugh in short, hurried breaths. “Much better.” Betty mutters before pulling Veronica down, capturing her lips in another heated kiss. Feeling particularly bold, she nips at the smaller girl’s bottom lip before skirting it with the tip of her tongue, and when Veronica parts her lips she hums before pushing her tongue in all the way. She can feel the brunette’s palms sliding up her stomach, and when they finally find her breasts the sensation forces Betty’s eyes to a close.

The smaller of the two breaks the kiss as she continues to gently knead the blonde’s breasts, trailing kisses down her throat and briefly nibbling at the skin on her collarbone before traveling further downward. Betty’s fingers tangle themselves in Veronica’s black hair, and when she feels the soft, wet heat of Veronica’s mouth on one of her nipples her mind suddenly goes blank.

_Holy shit._

Suddenly she forgets how to speak. Suddenly the only thing that exists to her right now is the feeling of Veronica’s tongue swiping against her sensitive skin. Stars flash in and out of Betty’s eyes and she bites her bottom lip as hard as she can without breaking the skin; her hips buck, and when Veronica’s hips push back she presses her mouth to the top of the brunette’s head to prevent herself from screaming.

“How’re you feeling?” Veronica’s voice, breathy and high, barely manages to reach Betty’s ears. “Doing okay?” Her tone is saturated with affection despite the heat of their current situation, and the blonde’s heart swells amidst her bubbling arousal. She can feel the dampness between her legs, soaking through her underwear, and the ache is getting louder and louder. She would be embarrassed if she wasn’t so turned on.

 _“Oh God, yes,”_ Betty manages to choke out, her fists closing around bunches of obsidian hair. Veronica laughs before moving to the other nipple, gently grazing it with her teeth before sucking hard. Her hand roams to the other breast, her fingers flexing over it; Betty’s helplessly writhing underneath her touch, moaning into her hair and arching her back.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better than this, she feels the chill of Veronica’s mouth leaving her skin; she’s kissing her chest, licking and nipping her way downward, and the lower she gets the harder Betty’s heart pounds. Veronica shifts her body downward as she kisses past her navel, but when she reaches the waistband of the blonde’s underwear she pauses and glances upward at her.

“Is this okay?” The brunette whispers, her breath fanning over the skin of Betty’s stomach. She sounds so tentative, and her eyes are wide with concern, and _God -_ she loves this girl so fucking much.

“Of course, V.” Betty momentarily rises herself on one elbow, reaching down to lovingly pet the brunette’s cheek. “With you, it always is.” She’s surprised at how calm she sounds; her pulse is thrumming noisily in her ears and her skin feels like it’s on fire.

Veronica smiles, and it’s bright enough to light up the whole room. Betty watches, entranced, as the brunette hooks her fingers on her waistband and slowly begins to pull the garment downward, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin as she does so. A lump in Betty’s throat begins to grow, and self-consciousness starts to jump around in her stomach. Taking off her bra was one thing, but her underwear is the final piece of clothing on her body - the last step before she’s completely nude, completely vulnerable, with nothing to hide. Veronica will be able to see _everything._

But when it finally comes off, and Veronica peels it from her ankles and moves to tenderly kiss the skin on the inside of her thighs, the fear melts away almost instantly. Veronica’s hands are skimming upwards, moving over her legs, her knees, her thighs, and pausing at her hips to grasp at the bone there - and her movements are so gentle, and so loving, and so affectionate, like she’s priceless porcelain that needs to be handled with utmost care and attention. Betty feels like a work of art in Veronica’s hands, like there isn’t anything out there that’s more beautiful than she. No one’s ever made her feel this way before, and she’s doubtful there's anyone else out there that can.

“Relax,” The brunette’s voice is soft as she kisses the sensitive skin, sending billions of tiny electric shocks that course all the way to the tips of Betty’s fingers and toes, “And if - at anytime - you want me to stop, just say so. Okay?” Another kiss, this time much higher up on her thigh and tantalizingly close to where Betty wants her most.

“I h-highly doubt I’d want you to stop at this point, but yes. Okay.” The blonde mumbles, embarrassed at how her voice is two octaves higher than usual.

Veronica chuckles. “Consent is sexy, you know.” How the hell does she sound so calm?

Betty rolls her eyes. “I know, but- _ah-"_  Whatever she was about to say next dissipates into thin air; the tip of Veronica’s tongue just teasingly licked a small stripe on the edge of her folds. It’s nothing like Betty’s ever felt before; her conscience is wiped clean for the umpteenth time that night, and she’s seeing stars again.

She can feel Veronica’s smile against her skin; she _loves_ what she’s doing to her. She swipes her tongue up and down, and Betty’s back arches and her hands are twisting the sheets in between her fingers. She spreads her legs a little wider, and Veronica responds by pressing the flat of her tongue against the most sensitive part of her body. Betty’s breath hitches in her throat and she cants her hips upward, further into Veronica’s mouth.

“Not so fast.” The brunette grasps her hips and gently pushes her back down against the mattress, and the resistance only makes Betty more aroused; every time she tries to lift her hips Veronica’s hands firmly keep her in place, and the mounting frustration in her lower region only makes Veronica’s tongue more enticing.

Betty’s fists move to Veronica’s hair. “A-are you _kidding_ me-”

In response, the brunette’s tongue moves slower and slower, lazily licking up and down, side to side. The pace is agonizingly steady, and while it feels _amazing_ Betty wants more - but the ball’s in Veronica’s court, and whatever she says goes. “Having fun?” Her voice is irritatingly devious.

“You’re _killing_ me here, Ronnie.” The blonde groans; she arches her back again, only to be pushed back into place by the smaller girl’s hands.

“Good.” Veronica pauses to lick her lips. She moves in again, but this time she angles her head slightly downward and-

 _“Fuck.”_ Betty’s chin juts upwards and she clamps her eyes shut when she feels her girlfriend’s tongue slip inside of her. She twists left and right, since that’s the only movement Veronica will allow her to do, and she chomps down on her bottom lip; she has to keep reminding herself that Hermione is asleep in a room not very far from this one and it would probably be best if she doesn’t wake up.

But Veronica’s mouth is so hot against her, and her tongue is skillfully maneuvering inside of her, and her nails are leaving marks on the bumps of her hips, and Veronica, Veronica, _Veronica._ Betty’s completely engulfed in her, immersed in her, drowning in her. She’s melting under this girl’s touch. She’ll be whatever, whoever Veronica wants her to be. She’ll do anything she asks. She’ll follow this girl to the ends of the universe.

Something rigid and tense is building up in the space between her legs; she knows she’s close, and she’s sure Veronica knows too. The smaller girl pulls herself out, moving back up to the blonde’s folds, which are still aching with desire. She moves just a little faster this time, flicking her back and forth with the tip of her tongue. Betty mewls and tugs at Veronica’s hair, wordlessly motioning for her to continue. The pressure in her hips is compact, pressing itself tighter and tighter.

“V, I-I’m-” It’s impossible for her to form complete sentences at this point.

“I know.” The brunette responds tenderly. She begins to suck at her, slowly at first; the resulting sensation forces Betty’s spine backwards in a perfect arch, but Veronica’s hands are still on her hips and she sternly pushes her back against the bed. She pulls at her gently with her teeth, and it’s _so good,_ it’s the best Betty’s ever felt, and she wants to feel this way for the rest of her goddamn life.

“Are you going to come for me, Betty?” Veronica’s voice is slightly muffled against her skin. She sucks her in a little harder this time, and the blonde gasps in response.

“Hn-” The taller of the two struggles to find her voice, “-I, I w-want - _yes.”_ She’s vaguely aware that she isn’t making any sense, but she’s just _so close._

Betty’s so drunk for Veronica that she can barely make out the brunette’s grin through her bleary eyes. “Then come.” She sucks in, pulling Betty into her mouth, then flicks the end with her tongue. “Come for me.”

The brunette repeats this, gradually increasing in pace every time. Betty’s floundering beneath her, her hips twitching desperately in the brunette’s hands. She’s grasping at Veronica’s hair and moaning up at the ceiling; the tense little ball of energy rolling around in between her legs is getting tighter, tighter…

 _“Veronica-”_ Betty gasps, her eyes popping wide open. Veronica finally lets go of her as she jolts forward; her toes curl and she’s pushing her fists into Veronica’s hair. The walls disappear and she forgets about the bed she’s lying on; everything goes blindingly white and she loses track of time, of space, of _anything._ Liquid heat rushes into her like lava, running over her bones and her muscles and the sinew holding her together. She’s floating, or sinking, or maybe it’s both - she doesn’t really know - but she’s totally okay, she’s perfectly fine with this. She could die right now and she would be happy.

It feels like several lifetimes have passed when she’s finally able to come down. The world slowly melts back into view; she’s back in Veronica’s room, back in her bed. She can feel her heartbeat crashing against the rungs of her ribcage, but she can’t feel her thighs. She laughs at this before reaching up to brush the sweat and hair sticking to her forehead. “Holy shit.”

Veronica’s leaving kisses on her hips, her stomach. “Was that as memorable as you wanted it to be?”

The blonde lets out another exhausted giggle. “There's no way I'm forgetting any of _that_ anytime soon.” She pulls the brunette up, pushing their lips together. She’s tired enough to fall asleep right then and there, but it’s Veronica’s turn now.

“You-” The brunette murmurs against her lips, “You don’t have to-”

“Hush,” Betty’s fingers dance upwards on her girlfriend’s back, bumping up against the clasp of her bra. “You’ve been so good to me,” The garment comes undone in milliseconds, “So now it’s my turn to be good to you - that is, if you want me to.”

“Oh, I definitely want you to,” Veronica clumsily pulls her bra away. “Though, to be honest, it’s not going to take much at this point.” She throws Betty a shy grin before taking her hands, guiding her down to her panties. Betty nearly comes a second time when she feels how wet she is through the lacy fabric.

After helping her out of her underwear, Betty pulls her back down on top of her, sighing as their curves fit perfectly against one another. She shifts beneath her so that one leg is between hers, and her hands skim down her sides, gripping her hips. She gently pushes down, grinding Veronica against her thigh, and when a pleasured moan escapes her lips Betty can’t help but lean upward to kiss her. She can taste herself on her tongue.

Veronica’s wet and slick against her leg, her hips moving torpidly at first. She’s letting out little gasps in between kisses, and when Betty moves away to nip at the sensitive skin on her neck she begins to groan a little louder. The brunette’s hands settle on top of the blonde’s again, guiding her from her hips to her backside. _Goddamn._

“Mm,” The smaller of the two hums as Betty squeezes with her hands. She begins to thrust a little faster, and with added force. “Y-you can-” She splutters; this is the first time she’s been incoherent tonight and Betty loves it. “-Y-your nails-”

The blonde immediately puts two and two together. She grips harder, her nails sinking into her flesh, and Veronica’s moan almost comes out as a scream. Her hips slide up and down Betty’s thigh, increasing momentum; Betty strengthens her grip, and Veronica has to lean in and press her face against the side of her neck because if she were to openly moan again Hermione would definitely wake up.

Veronica was right - it doesn't take long for her to reach her climax. She pushes down as hard as she can on Betty’s leg, and her hands slide under Betty’s back; the blonde can feel her nails digging into her skin. Veronica screams into her neck, and one of Betty’s hands moves up to the back of her head, gently pressing down so her voice is muffled completely.

The brunette collapses on top of her, her breathing hard and laboured, and her hips are twitching against hers. Betty moves her other hand to the small of her back, which is damp with sweat. She swipes the hair from Veronica’s forehead before kissing it. “You okay?” She murmurs, glancing downward; Veronica’s cheek is pressed against her shoulder and her eyes are closed.

“Mmhmm.” She gives the blonde’s waist a squeeze. Betty can feel Veronica’s heartbeat against her own; it’s surreal, feeling two pulses hammering at once. “You know what?” Her words are slightly slurred, and it’s adorable.

“What?”

“I think we need to get jealous more often.” Veronica sleepily nuzzles her cheek against her, and Betty throws her head back to laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.” She reaches to pull the sheets over their bodies. They nestle closer together, and sleep easily overtakes the both of them.

The last coherent thought that passes through her before she falls asleep is the fact that she _still_ can’t feel her legs.

 

* * *

 

Morning slowly creeps in through the window, spreading sunlight over the sheets of Veronica’s bed. It reaches Betty’s face, forcing her to wake up; she groans in protest before rolling on her side. It’s Saturday; she can sleep as long as she damn well pleases.

When she feels Veronica’s warmth pressed against her, she smiles before wrapping an arm around her middle and pulling her closer. The smaller girl responds by fitting her head against the curve of her neck, humming contentedly in her sleep. The blonde’s eyes flutter half-open, revealing the slumbering girl in her arms, and her chest swells with affection…and maybe a little bit of smug pride.

Everybody wants Veronica Lodge, but only Betty Cooper is allowed to have her.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from "Secrets" by The Weeknd.


End file.
